John Milton

Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.

Of herbs, and other country messes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.

Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell,
By slow Meander's margent green,
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Sweetest Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell,
By slow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet-embroidered vale.

When the scourge
Inexorable, and the torturing hour
Calls us to penance.

When the scourge
Inexorable, and the torturing hour
Calls us to penance.

His form had yet not lost
All his original brightness, not appear'd
Less than arch-angel ruined, and read more

His form had yet not lost
All his original brightness, not appear'd
Less than arch-angel ruined, and th' excess
Of glory obscured.

The infernal serpent; he it was whose guile,
Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived
The mother read more

The infernal serpent; he it was whose guile,
Stirr'd up with envy and revenge, deceived
The mother of mankind.